We left at 12:00 to get to LAX in time for our 3:45 flight on Saturday, the first flight of many. Security went a lot faster than expected, and we managed to sit down for a bite to eat at a Quesadilla place. They had chicken quesadillas which sounded good at the time. I have one word for that monstrosity of a meal: greasy. I could feel the fat clogging my arteries, if you know what I mean.
We boarded the plane soon after, flying on British Airways, and I endured 9 hours of pure torture. Drowned in accents from all over Europe! Oh, the bloody AGONY.
We arrived in London around noon, and with nine hours until our next flight, decided to look around. After putting our luggage away, we took a cab to Central London. My dad made the mistake of asking if the locals called it Downtown London. Nope. Our Australian accented cab driver made sure we knew it was definitely Central London. NOT Downtown London. When that lecture was over, we were dropped off near Buckingham palace.
